


Too Many Video Games

by KrisseyCrystal (IceCreAMS)



Series: Fluff Bingo [20]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff Bingo!, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Secret Relationship, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, but it's ryuji figuring out about akira and goro, the others are mentioned but not enough to get a tag alskdjf, this is basically that one scene from friends where joey finds out about monica and chandler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/KrisseyCrystal
Summary: --oh my god.Akira fucking took the outside seat for a reason.Ryuji’s mouth dropped open, brown eyes enormous. He thought he might get whiplash from how fast his head spun back and forth and back and forth between Akira and Akechi and the dopey-eyed, disgusting Look they were still sharing while Makoto was still talking and oh my god. Oh my god.Akira’s soulmate is Goro Akechi.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Fluff Bingo [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655521
Comments: 20
Kudos: 351
Collections: Writing Squad Fluff Bingo





	Too Many Video Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArdentKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArdentKnight/gifts).



Because Ryuji and Akira were the kind of “thick as thieves” that meant no secrets, not ever, Ryuji could be understandably miffed that when it came to the ever-controversial topic of soulmates, Akira only said, “I’ve already met mine.”

Ryuji, who still had no idea who the long, crooked line on his wrist was supposed to represent, scowled.

“What the hell?” and “How?” and “Who is it?” fell together in a messy jumble over his tongue and out of his mouth. He could hear his mother’s voice now, scolding, “Slow down, Ryuji. Breathe. You’re the only person I know who could drown simply by speaking.”

Akira smiled enigmatically and did that thing he always did when he was thinking: pinched a strand of curly dark hair between his fingers and twisted.

Ryuji wasn’t impressed. “Really, dude? You’re not gonna tell me?”

So finally Akira chuckled and pulled down his sleeve to reveal a boxy and cool-as-fuck looking Hercules gleaming on the underside of his wrist. The constellation was boxy, with legs that hurricaned outward. It was sick.

“And that is…?”

“The who is private.”

“What, really?!”

“Really.”

But no matter how hard Ryuji pushed and begged and pleaded, it was the one and only secret Akira kept from him. 

It was infuriating.

* * *

Most people wore bands around their wrists; others didn’t. That wasn’t anything new. It was one of those unspoken understandings that the stars your soulmate was born under was a piece of private information you decided who and when to share with and how. Some people were like Ann who always changed out her wristband to match her outfit and had who-knew-how-many bangles and scrunchies and other accessories she’d gathered just to look cute and keep the stars on her wrist secret. Others were like Mr. Sakura who had no interest in the business of soulmates and kept his wrist bare for anyone to see the Ursa Major there.

Some people, on the other hand, were like Akechi, who always wore long sleeves no matter the weather and usually gloves and never were caught swimming. Ever.

It was those people who typically had more than one constellation, but that wasn’t a very common occurrence.

It was rare when a person had a whole piece of the sky chunked out and wrapped around their hand, winding up their arm, gorgeous and multi-faceted. In ancient times, theories had been that those unique individuals were able to call nearly anyone they met a soulmate who was born under at least one of those stars; in modern times, more theories were coming out that the more constellations on your body, the more specific your soulmate had to be. That soulmate had to have been born under that _exact_ window of the sky.

At least, that’s what Ryuji heard on TV. 

He figured that’s what Akechi had and why he wrapped himself up so much and so often and so tightly.

And then the day came when they were meeting to plan an infiltration into Sae Niijima’s palace. Ryuji, who arguably knew Akira better than anyone else, thought he was acting strange. Usually, Akira had the window seat in the LeBlanc booth the Thieves unofficially claimed as their own. It wasn’t as though Akira wasn’t allowed to sit anywhere else, but the instant he swung a hand at Ryuji in a very gentlemanly, _You first,_ Ryuji felt something was off.

But it wasn’t a big deal and he wasn’t a sissy so after Ann climbed in, he scooched beside her and Akira sat on the outside. Haru, Yusuke, and Makoto clambered over into the opposite bench and Akechi and Futaba pulled up a few tall chairs from the counter.

They talked.

And they had talked about this plan so much lately that Ryuji felt like he already had it memorized, so he slouched over his crossed arms and let his chin dig into the purple of his jacket sleeve and closed his eyes and thought _man, no wonder Morgana likes taking naps in sunlight; this is great--_

\--when Akechi, jokingly in response to a jibe from Makoto, hummed, “By the strength of my stars, are you doubting me?”

And it wasn’t like Ryuji had never heard people make those kind of expressions before. _By the strength of my stars. The sprawl of my stars. Let no one but my stars be the judge of me._

It was just that people usually said something like that because that phrase held a connotation with the stars they were born under. Ryuji heard the word “strength” out of Akechi’s mouth and he remembered there was that old, animated Disney movie he used to love as a kid about the super-strong son of a god and his back snapped ramrod straight.

He would have probably talked his own self out of it all, too, if Akira hadn’t reacted the way he did, pressing his glasses up his nose and sharing a humored _Look_ with Akechi, his arm close enough to brush against Akechi’s knee.

Akechi met his look in turn, a distinctive curl to his mouth that looks almost handsome and--

\-- _oh my god_.

Akira fucking took the outside seat for a reason.

Ryuji’s mouth dropped open, brown eyes enormous. He thought he might get whiplash from how fast his head spun back and forth and back and forth between Akira and Akechi and the dopey-eyed, disgusting _Look_ they were still sharing while Makoto was still talking and oh my god. Oh my god. 

_Akira’s soulmate is Goro Akechi._

“Ryuji?” Haru chimed from the other side of the table. Her head tilted, pretty mouth pinched in concern. “Are you all right?”

“You--”

Akechi and Akira took one look at him and without needing to look at each other, they moved _._

Akira’s hand slammed over his mouth before he could say another word; the other hand fisted into the back of his purple jacket and yanked him out of the booth so quickly and messily, Ryuji’s knee banged up against the bottom and nearly upended all of the team’s coffee and notes spread over the table.

Makoto squawked. Futaba yelped, feet jumping up onto the edge of her tall chair. Akechi hurried the both of them around the counter. They nearly ran into Mr. Sakura on their way _into_ LeBlanc’s kitchens while he was on his way _out,_ toweled hands laden with a fresh, steaming pot of curry. The man swore wildly as he lifted the giant pot, stumbling back out of their way. Then the door swung shut and Akira finally released Ryuji once his back was pressed to one of the two steel ranges lining the back. 

“Wha--” But Ryuji didn’t get a chance to ask a damn thing because nearly immediately afterward, Akira and Akechi spared another glance, and then Akira turned around and fucking _left him there_ in the kitchen with his _soulmate_ , who, last Ryuji was sure about, they weren’t even really _sure about._ “What the hell was all that for?!”

“You don’t know how to be subtle,” Akechi muttered as if it was supposed to be enough of an explanation.

It wasn’t.

“You!” Ryuji sputtered. “You and Akira!”

“We--” Akechi looked like he was about to say something else but then thought better of it, biting the words back before they had a chance to slip free. “--yes.”

“You and Akira.”

“You said that.”

“I can’t fucking believe--”

“--you don’t have to say it that loudly, do you?”

That set Ryuji off again; he nearly screeched. “And you guys are keeping it secret!”

“Of course,” Akechi said as the kitchen door finally swung open again and Akira wandered back in. His slender fingers were wrapped around the handle of a small, ceramic cup of coffee. “I should think even someone as monkey-brained as you knows that it’s _our_ business when and where and how people know the nature of our relationship.” 

“Y-yeah, but--” 

And then Ryuji’s entire front turned cold because Akira fucking _dumped_ the coffee over his front.

“What the hell, man?!” Ryuji shrilled. He would have backed up further, trying to get away from this horrid abuse of their friendship, but the edge of the range still dug into the small of his back and his shoes squeaked uselessly against the floor tiles. “What’d you go and do that for? That’s fucking cold!”

“No. It’s hot,” Akira coolly said and Ryuji’s first thought was that he’s been playing too many video games.

“The FUCK?”

Akechi somehow picked up whatever it was Akira put down because he sighed like this entire conversation was taxing. His arms crossed over his chest. Akira handed a paper towel roll to Ryuji. “Consider it our cover story. The three of us looked rather conspicuous running into LeBlanc’s kitchens as fast as we did.”

Ryuji tore the paper towel roll out of Akira’s hand. “Excuse you. _I_ was dragged.”

“Regardless, you will tell them you spilled coffee on yourself and it was so hot you could have suffered severe burns, so you are grateful Akira and I were as quick-thinking as we were to cart you off to the kitchen sink to resolve the situation and help you as fast as possible. Understand?”

Ryuji looked up, squeezing his yellow shirt dry and dimly realizing his mother was probably going to make him do the laundry (again). “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Akechi confirmed. Akira nodded.

“You’re not gonna say anything else?” Ryuji swung a hand at his ruined shirt. “Not like, ‘Sorry you had to find out this way, Ryuji,’ or ‘Hey, bud, I know this is like, breaking news, but if you keep this a secret, I’ll make it up to you.’” Ryuji stopped and gasped loudly. “Blackmail.”

“You wouldn’t.” 

“I could!” Ryuji tried to meet Akechi’s hard stare with his own but hated how transparent his own damn heart was. He sighed. “Fuck.” Then, he thought better of it. “Actually, speaking of--”

“--we’re not talking about our sex life, Ryuji.”

Of course Akira knew what he was thinking. Of course that whole “knowing each other better than anyone else” and “thick as thieves” thing was being turned around to bite him in the ass. Of course.

Damn.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not TOO satisfied with the ending, but i couldn't think of where else this should go asldkfj so there you have it
> 
> enjoy something far more lighthearted than my last shuake adventure, for those who read that one laskdf THANKS AGAIN TO MY AMAZING FRIEND ARDENT who first put the idea of "soulmate" (from my Fluff Bingo! card) and shuake in my head; this was SO much fun to write
> 
> It also allowed me to play with a soulmate au that uses stars as markers and i'm always a sucker for constellations as an aesthetic
> 
> thanks for reading!!
> 
> [tw](https://twitter.com/kissykrissey) / [tblr](https://krisseycrystal.tumblr.com/)


End file.
